Chapter 8 - I couldn't breathe.I called the police.
Then Daniel.
Then the number again.
Nothing.
My hands shook so badly I nearly dropped the phone.
The black SUV had no visible plate.
Emma was looking at the camera.
She wasn't crying.
That frightened me more.
She had been taught not to provoke strangers.
I called the police again.
“Do not go after them yourself,” the dispatcher said.
But then another message arrived.
Thirty minutes.
I ran downstairs.
The archive suddenly looked different.
The shelves.
The boxes.
The recordings.
There had to be something.
Something they wanted.
I searched my grandfather's labels.
One box read:
PROJECT ORION
I opened it.
Inside were corporate records.
Northstar Holdings.
Shell companies.
Property transfers.
And a list of names.
At the top was my father.
At the bottom was someone I recognized.
My mother.
Then Jessica.
My hands froze.
They were all connected.
But how?
Daniel called.
“Listen carefully.”
“I found Project Orion.”
Silence.
Then:
“Take nothing out of the house.”
“Why?”
“Because that file may contain evidence of financial fraud.”
“Emma was kidnapped.”
“I know.”
“You told me to bring the archive.”
“No.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“I said they may think you have the archive.”
He lowered his voice.
“Do not give them anything.”
“Then what do I do?”
“You need to understand something.”
“What?”
“The people who took Emma may not be after the money.”
I stared at the files.
“What are they after?”
“The recordings.”
My stomach dropped.
“Of my father?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your grandfather recorded conversations that were never supposed to exist.”
A vehicle engine sounded outside.
I looked through the curtains.
Black SUV.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Daniel shouted through the phone:
“Don't open the door!”
Too late.
Someone knocked.
Three slow knocks.
I stepped back.
Then another.
My phone buzzed.
Open the door.
I whispered:
“They're here.”
Daniel said:
“Get into the hidden room.”
I ran.
The secret door shut behind me.
Through the crack, I watched two men enter.
They searched the house.
One of them said:
“She has the file.”
The second answered:
“Then find it.”
They moved through the rooms.
One came toward the archive.
I froze.
My grandfather had installed a second passage behind the shelves.
I remembered it from childhood.
I pushed aside the wooden panel.
A narrow tunnel opened.
I crawled inside.
Behind me, the shelf moved.
The men heard it.
“She's in there!”
I ran through the tunnel.
At the end was a cellar beneath the property.
There was another exit.
I burst outside.
My phone rang.
The same unknown number.
“Did you find it?”
I said nothing.
A man's voice laughed.
“You're closer than your father ever was.”
I froze.
“You know my father?”
“We know everything about your family.”
“Where is my daughter?”
“Safe.”
“Let me hear her.”
A pause.
Then Emma's voice.
“Mom?”
I nearly collapsed.
“Emma!”
“Mom, I'm okay.”
Her voice was shaky.
Then the man returned.
“Bring the Orion file.”
“I don't have it.”
“You do.”
“How?”
“Your grandfather planned for this.”
The line went dead.
I looked at the house.
Then at the archive.
Then at the papers in my hands.
There was a symbol stamped on Project Orion.
A circle around a seven-pointed star.
I had seen that symbol before.
On my father's office wall.
And suddenly I realized something.
The organization behind the shell companies wasn't dead.
It wasn't hidden.
It had been operating openly.
May you like
Inside my father's company.
And I knew exactly where their headquarters were.
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